


Whence The Helmet Went

by BearSharkOctopus



Category: Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 19:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BearSharkOctopus/pseuds/BearSharkOctopus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A beastman gets pestered by a milk boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whence The Helmet Went

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miko/gifts).



Somewhere in the Southern Sector, a boy runs through underground corridors. He carries a large bottle of milk in a backpack. He’s used to this. It’s his job. He’s already seven. Everybody has to do his part in the underground.

The boy reaches what seems to be a dead end, looks behind him to make sure none can see, and then vanishes through what seems to be a crack. He reaches a bigger corridor, and then stairs, many flights of stairs. Out of breath, he reaches the top and deambulates into a very large derelict hangar. There are old pieces of machinery scattered all over the place in junk piles, some of them in the process of being canibalized for parts. In the middle of the room kneels an iron giant; it gives off an air of reverence to the whole place. There is sunlight breaking through holes in the roof of the structure. It hits the glossy alloy of the iron giant at haphazard angles and sends bright glares all over the place. On closer inspection, the thing is far from being in a healthy state. The metal scales are worn out, deformed and battered back in shapes a thousand times, like the scar-ridden veteran of a thousand battles.

From somewhere far away in the cavern emerges the boy’s client, a beastman. He is sweaty from his morning exercises, wearing only a pair of battered pants, a towel on his shoulder and a pissed-off smile. But he’s always like that. He’s not really pissed off, though the boy.

"You got the goods?", he barks rudely.  
"Right here I mean yes sir"

The boy offers the bottle of milk; it’s nearly as big as his own head. The beastman snatches it and, in a display of having absolutely no manner at all, he sits cross-legged on the ground and starts guzzling on the white liquid.

The boy doesn’t says anything for a while. His client finishes a long draugh and wipes his mouth with his towel, and the boy asks him if it’s good quality.

"It will do", says the beastman, and it was clear from his relaxed brow that it was more than fine.  
"Are you a cat, sir?", says the boy.

The beastman, who’s name as Viral, spew out all the milk in his throat into a fine mist in front of him.

"What no you stupid humans do I look like a cat"  
"I mean, beastmen are made of several things right? Aside from human"  
"I am not a cat", growld the beastman.  
"But you’re a lot of things right? Many animals right? That’s what mom says beastean are. Mom’s always right. She knows things. And she said you had eyes like a cat."  
"What you cow-herders think is none of my concern. I only paid for the milk”  
The beastman takes a large breath. He seems to argue with his pride over whether he should even answer the accusation. Then he loses the fight. His words come out like the sluice build up behind a floodgate.  
"Sharks! Crocodiles! Bears! Great animals, that’s what I’m made of! Beastmen are made of great, powerful animals!”  
“But your eyes looks like a cat. So maybe you have all those animals in you and also some cat. Because you like milk. You like milk, don’t you?”  
“No. I drink milk because I’m a warrior. I absolutely hate milk”  
He begins drinking great gulps from the oversized bottle. The boy couldn’t help but think that if he had a tail, it would be waving.

“How old are you now boy”, asks the beastman after wiping the froth from his mouth.  
“Seven years old and one day. Mom killed one of the cow for my birthday. The old one that didn’t produce milk anymore. We ate like kings on that night. It was great. You should have come. I did invite.”  
"Beastmen don’t have birthdays"  
"But you must have at been born somewhere at some times", asked the boy.  
"Don’t care"  
"Then how do you know how old you are?"  
"That doesn't really apply to me"

And then the beastman starts laughing. The boy doesn't know why. But it sure put him in a good mood.

"Dad will probably come later today. He caught a really huge boar. It’s hide is so thick, I heard that in other villages they don’t even bother trying to prepare it. They just throw it to the dogs."  
"They need better knives then"  
"Where did you learn butchering"  
"Killing humans, of course"  
The beastman gives a great, terrible smile from ears to ears with all his criss-crossed teeth. The boy just stare ahead without any reaction.

"…Not. Beastmen have to hunt for their food on the field. I ate boars all the time. It's good meat that you shouldn't ignore."  
"Is that why you carry a cleaver?"

Viral strongly react as if he was hit by thunder. His eyebrows twist in disbelief.  
"What, no! It’s a warrior’s weapon! That’s why I have a cleaver, it’s to fight! So of course I would have one!"  
"But you’re also the village’s butcher. So that’s another reason to have a cleaver right?"  
"No. It’s just convenient that I make use of the cleaver. It has nothing to do with each other. Only a naked ape would be stupid enough to not understand that. Alright, let me go fetch the money for the milk."  
"Mom says she doesn’t want you to pay."  
"Well next time you should send your mom because I’m paying anyway."

 

  
 **********************  


On the next morning, the boy finds the beastman working on his tattered cloak. He sits next to him.

"It looks bigger this time.", says the boy.  
The beastman lets out a grunt. The boy put down the bottle of milk against a rock next to him and the beastman’s eyes follow it, dilating a bit. Then he goes back to his needlework.

"Most people don’t make their own clothes", says the boy. "I don’t make my own clothes. Mom makes them. She’s a cloth fairy. It’s what she says."  
"I don’t need a clothe fairy", says the beastman.  
"My dad said he wanted to give you his old hunting jacket and you refused."  
"You wouldn’t understand because you’re a stupid human"

The boy cross his arms and stay put, as if to say “try me”. Viral looks at him for a few seconds, then say nothing and keeps sewing. The delicate activity looks very odd in the care of his oversized, clawed hands. But he tries his best anyway, his brow narrowed in focus on his task.

"Beastmen", Viral says slowly, "are only given new clothes as rewards. When you graduate from the trainee squad. When you finish your Gunmen maintenance class. When you reach the end of the Warrior Path. When you’re given your very own Gunman. That’s when I got my red suits. But you humans…"

The beastman drops his needle maladroitly and growls. He picks it up and bent his back again over his tattered clothes.  
“You discard clothes and get new ones without thinking. You don’t care about the significance. About the honour. I don’t want somebody’s hand-me-down. I’m going to drape myself with my own honour.”  
“Your honour looks like a bunch of rags”, points out the boy.  
“And that’s why I said humans are too dumb to understand”

  
 **********************  


On one frenzied afternoon, Viral drives his smoking Gunman into its makeshift hangar. It creaks at every movement. A boy runs into the room.

“That was amazing”, he says flatly.  
The beastman just grunts and jumps to the ground. His back hunched, he goes find his supply of first aid. The boy offers to help with the bandages. The blond beastman refuses  
"It really was amazing", the boy rambles upon while the beastman wraps himself. "I don’t understand why these people keep coming back. We told them we don’t want to go to the surface. I mean it’s great that we have access to the outside world. It’s a great thing. We have trade routes and new stuff and travelers, but it’s a _desert_ out there. Why would you want to live in a desert? We got tired of the sun after a week. The caverns are much better and it's our home. Why do they want us to live on the surface? Hey, do you want me to go find doctor Bottle to fix you? In case he's not drinking?"  
"No need. I’m not hurt. Not anymore. See? I heal fast."  
"But then why the bandages"  
"It’s a warrior’s pride to dress his own wounds. I won't give it up."  
"But what wounds?"  
"You’re acting like a stupid human again", says the beastman.

The boy sat on a rock.  
"If we’re so stupid then why do you help us?"  
"Because I’m just following orders. I’m doing what the king would have wanted.”  
"The Spiral King right? The one that died right before I was born? They said he was a terrible man.”  
"He was a great man”, corrected Viral.  
"I though he hated humans, sir"  
"He was helping them. They just didn't know. And the new government is doing the opposite of helping them by bringing everybody on the surface. It's all twisted on itself. And I can only do so little. Protecting one village at a time."

“But you hate people that you protect"  
"It’s not because you dislike something that you want it gone. It's an adult thing. Okay. What about you kid. Let me ask, do you got any rival? Is there any other kid that you don’t like? A stupid bully?"  
"Yeah, Giant Bob with his stupid gang!"  
"What if he was gone one day, just like that, without any chance for you to settle the score?"  
"If he was gone then it’d be great!"  
"That’s why you can’t understand"

The boy says nothing and starts gathering empty milk bottles and putting them in a crate.  
"Can't understand what?”, he asked suddenly  
"That sometimes you want to do things just for yourself. And it never really matters if you like it or hate it. You just need it for yourself"  
"What do you want for yourself, sir?"

The beastman suddenly looks as if he was hit on the head with a hammer.

"What do I want?"  
Pondering this, the beastman finishes covering his shoulder with bandages. Then he sits there, his mind blank. He reaches for his milk and chugs it down.

"Do Beastmen want girlfriends?"  
Viral spits out all of the milk frontward.  
"I…”  
He regains his composure.  
"I want my helmet back."  
"Your what?"  
"I want my helmet back. They took it from me. Everything started going wrong the day I lost it. I was top of the class, top of the extermination team. I could have become one of the Four Supreme Commander eventually. I was going to show Adiane how much I was worth. How much I deserve. I was starting to receive solo missions. I had permission to patrol freely the surface. It was the best life a beastman could hope. And then I had to take care of one simple village after two idiots failed. And it all went wrong. And I lost my helmet. I vowed I’d get it back. I didn’t. I’m not even sure against who I made that vow against anymore."

"A helmet, like, a silly metal thing? For your head?"  
"No you stupid human it’s for my partner"  
Viral points a thumb at his smoking Gunman  
"He needs more than an helmet", muses the boy.

Viral seems about to snap something back out with anger and frustration. His mouth freezes open for one second. Then all the pressure drops out of him and his back arches low.  
"Yeah, he needs more than just an helmet"  
"But even still, you’re such a great pilot! Enemies didn’t have a chance, even with fresh new robots. You fended off all these attackers today just with, with, robot kung-fu! You didn’t even have to shoot!"

"That’s because I don’t have any ammunition left. Haven’t had any for three years."  
"Oh.”  
The boy scratched his head.  
"The smoke screen was fantastic. They never saw it coming."  
"The mech doesn’t have a smoke screen. The spiral reactor was overheating. I just took advantage of it."  
"Oh."  
"I’ll start the repairs tomorrow. It’s too hot for now. Can’t touch it."

The boy bit his lower lips.  
"Hey boy, wanna help me set up the solar panels? Battery’s nearly done."  
The boy’s face brighten as if he was given a new toy.  
"Sure!”  


  
 **********************  


A boy hurries atop a flight of unending stairs, four-by-four, runs past a kneeling giant and enters Viral’s humble house. He’s sitting crossed legged and pensive in front of a small television. The news program just ended.

"Did you hear?!?", the boy yells.  
"Yes I just saw the news. Grapearls uh. Going to be here tomorrow. Darry and Gimmy. They sure grew up well.”  
"That’s not what I mean!", shrieks the boy. The beastman ignores him.  
"If I have to fight these things, then it’s going to be though. Really though. They have better guns, and my shield is breaking down. It’s because of the leather rivets. They aren’t holding. Need replacement, for the whole thing."  
"But that’s not what I mean"  
"Need missiles for the shoulder pods. Give me that and the fight tomorrow would go like melted butter. Just give me some missiles."  
"But…"  
"I wonder if they reinforced the cockpit doors? Maybe I can finish the last one hand-to-hand. Even experienced pilots don’t realize you can just do a wrestling hold and jump in there with your cleaver. That can work. If I make it to the last one, that is. Can’t do it before. The others won’t just look and stand still."

"The box!", blurts out the boy.  
"What box?", says Viral, finally paying attention to him.  
"There’s a box! It came this afternoon, in the huge truck with a crane. It’s for you, it’s what the delivery men said!"  
"Is it a box of missiles?", quipped Viral with a sneer.  
"I don’t know! I don’t think so! There’s only one word on the box"  
"So? What does it says"  
"Helmet"

Viral looks at the boy funny, as if he had made a joke and the punch line wasn’t delivered yet. Then he blinks several times.

"…It’s for me?", he says with confused curiosity.  
"For Viral the Blacksmith, is what they said, but there’s only one Viral in the whole cavern system and it’s you. And they said he’s a beastman pilot. That’s double-you. Are you a blacksmith sir?"  
The beastman turns off the television.

"I was. In the eastern sector. That was many years ago. That the first settlement that I tried to defend. Had to run away in the end. Too many attack waves. Couldn’t repair fast enough even with the forge."

"So these people back in that village, they were you friends right? Since you defended them? And now they ended up on the surface? And then went to the Big City? And then they sent you this box. Right? It’s not because I’m a boy that I can’t understand something simple like that. So it’s what happened right?"

"I suppose so."  
Viral scratches his head absentmindedly, as if this was all a dream.  
"And you said the box has… written on it…"  
"Yes!"  
Viral opens his mouth to say something, closes it, ponders some more. Then he speaks very, very slowly.

"Where is that box?"

  
 **********************  


A hundred villagers stood around Viral and slapped him joyously on the back. The word was on everybody’s smile. Helmet. Helmet for the Defender. It came with a plaque that had Viral’s misspelled name on it and the wrong date of the fight between him, Kamina and Simon. It looks as if it had been stolen straight from a museum. The box had to be forklifted into Viral's hangar, so huge it was. Viral just stared into the gigantic crate in disbelief that this was really happening. And he seemed even more confused about his own lack of interest.

“I… can’t really use it”, the beastman tries to say to the cheerful crowd in the hangar.

They had thrown an impromptu party, and Viral was horrible at dealing with happy people. He almost stuttered when speaking. Everybody was saying that he was going to _show ‘em Grapearl Forces what a real fight was_. They also tried to get him drunk. Viral didn't bother trying to explain that his body purged alcohol way too fast for him to reach inebriation.

People throw confettis, an old man played the violin and the beastman tried to snarl to scare away little girls who want to braid his hair. It only mades them giggle.

"Enkidudu used to have a second head on top of its shoulders", he tried to explain. "It’s gone. There’s nowhere to put the helmet."  
And the answer was the same.  
"That’s not a problem, you can just rip off their heads tomorrow and use them! There’s going to be plenty of them!"

  
 **********************  


On the morrow, Viral and the milk boy sit before Enkidudu as the first rays of the morning sun reflect upon it. They worked all night to prepare for the sudden battle. They barely managed to scrape together makeshift repairs before sunrise. And they both knew that none of their crap was going to hold. Not if the fight lasted more than five minutes. They were running out of everything. At the end, the boy had desperately chewed all of his gum sticks and stacked them in the collapsing leg section. Meanwhile, Viral had emptied all of his supply of bandages on the arm’s wobbly shield support. Neither was impressed with his own work.

And the blazing desert sun slowly etched its way above the mountain ranges far in the horizon..

“What happens now?", asks the boy.  
"Battle. When they come."  
"And then"  
"Forced registration at Kamina City for your people"  
"What about you?"  
"Prison I suppose"  
"What if they want to execute you?”  
"I’d like to see the look on their face if they try"  
The beastman laughs with a dry throat. The boy doesn’t understand what's so funny about it.  
"Why do we even have to fight, it’s so stupid."  
"Most human things are stupid, yes."

Viral jumps on his feet in a very dynamic fashion and stretches his shoulders. Suddenly, the prospect of a desperate fight seems to put him in a great mood. Like a feeling that he missed for a long time, and which finally came back and made him feel more alive than ever in the past seven years. He even hums to himself while inspecting his cleaver's blade and sharpening it a few more times with his wet stone.

"What about the helmet?", asks the boy.  
"Keep it"  
"But you said you always wanted it"  
"I though I wanted it. Not anymore. Now that I actually have it, I think..."

He slides the cleaver back in its sheath and clips it at his waist. He puts on his tattered cloak as if it was a treasure. He cracks his neck to the left and to the right.

"I think it’s really silly after all. Like a human thing."

Then he climbs aboard Enkidudu. Somewhere far away, the sirens starts blazing, signalling the fight.


End file.
